


The Recombinant

by Falcon89



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-26 06:29:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcon89/pseuds/Falcon89
Summary: Claire Dearing has made some mistakes. Haven't we all?In an effort to right her wrongs she embarked on a near-suicidal crusade to do the impossible: End InGen for good. Thankfully a familiar and a not so familiar face have risen from the woodwork to save her life. But the adventure the find themselves in next might prove just as deadly. Dark truths are revealed and shocking discoveries are made; leaving Claire to wonder if their world is screwed no matter what the outcome of their new mission.





	1. Red Raptor

**This work has also been posted in FF.Net. Thank you so much for reading. Please note that Jurassic World doesn't open in the States until Friday and I don't have tickets until Saturday, so please no spoilers in the comments. That being said, this fanfic has been in the works since the first Jurassic World. It took some time but I've finally completed it. I will post one chapter a week. Maybe some weeks I'll post more than once. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this.**  
  
Okay not quite sure why it's not formatting my paragraphs correctly, so sorry in advance.

  **So I'm ashamed to admit that I got a character name wrong. It's Lowery the lovable nerd from Jurassic World; not the usurper that is Larry. I don't honestly know where I got that name from and I've seen Jurassic World so many freakin times, it's ridiculous! Anyway, the chapters have been edited and Larry is now gone.**

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Claire Dearing stepped outside into the dreary, early morning. A cold chill licked the length of her spine sending her into a momentary shutter. It was an unusually cold, June morning, even by coastal northern Washington’s standards, but it wasn’t the cold that had elicited the deep, uncomfortable, chill.

            The phone call with Selina, an old family friend, had left her with a deep-seated feeling of dread that, no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t shake away. Selina had said she was in town and that she had wanted to meet up for breakfast. That had all been well and good before she realized that very few people knew that she had moved to Anacortes, Washington. In fact, there was only one person who knew her true location, and that person was Lowery. She had only told Lowery because at the moment they shared a common problem. Anyone else would be in danger if they knew where she was. In the current climate, information was a dangerous commodity.

            So how was it that Selina knew?

            She and Lowery had gone to lengths to cover their tracks. They had acquired new identities and changed their appearances as best as they could without invasive help. For the purposes of their operation, they weren’t even living in the same city, but close enough to each other to be within driving distance.

            With the help of murky, brown contacts, glasses and an extremely expensive wig, she had gone from a blue eyed, auburn, powerhouse to a blond haired, brown-eyed, horn rimmed glasses wearing, small town librarian. To those who knew her here, she was Sarah Carson, a shy woman, born and raised in the Idaho backcountry. If anyone saw through her disguise they didn’t’ let on. Although, she had no reason to suspect that anyone knew who she really was. Well, at least until now anyway.

            God, how stupid had she been to think that this could ever work? But being her stubborn self, she had to try, not because she was a glutton for punishment but because she just didn’t know when to quit. Owen had been right.

            Claire’s stomach did a sick twist. _Owen._ She wished that he was here now with her. He’d know what to do in this highly volatile situation. But he wasn’t here. Just her. By her own choice. She hadn’t even given him one. She had just left in the night, like the plot of a sad country song.

So, it was up to her to rectify this situation. Selina had sounded so strained on the phone. Claire could only imagine that someone had a gun pressed to the poor woman’s skull. That’s the only reason she agreed to come. She fully intended to save Selina if she wasn’t already dead. She certainly planned on meeting any attackers head on. She reached inside her anorak for just a moment and stroked the butt of the smith and Wesson she had holstered in her shoulder rig. It wasn’t the only gun she carried but it was her favorite of the two. Owen had given it to her six months prior on her birthday, exactly three weeks before she had left him. The guilt rushed her for just a moment, before she closed her eyes and pushed it aside. She had gotten good at this practice. Maybe someday she wouldn’t even feel the guilt anymore. Wishful thinking, she knew that plain as day.

Before she knew it, she was suddenly three blocks from the meeting place. She had chosen Café Wolf for its popularity and its proximity to the Anacortes Police Department. The police could literally run over in less than a minute if they were summoned. The only reason she hadn’t called them already was purely selfish. If this turned out to be nothing, her cover was blown. Disappearing from the lives of her loved ones would have been for nothing, and all the hard work that she and Lowery had put in would instantly become meaningless. 

She had made mistakes in her lifetime, too many to count in fact, but she wasn’t stupid. She had learned from those mistakes and she had learned well. So the moment she suspected this was a trap she realized something. There were three alleys between her and the café where predators could easily lie in wait. But there were also sixteen cameras. Despite being in Seattle, Lowery had control over all of them. If it came down to a fight he’d call the police. All she had to do was hold on until help arrived. Thanks to Owen’s teaching, she knew that she could more than handle herself in a fight.

A light rain began to fall as she transected the entrance to the first alley. She kept watch, but not overly so. She had mastered the art of being alert without appearing guarded a long time ago. She also knew how to make herself look like easy prey. And when the predator she wanted to attract came stupidly forward she would spring showing her own hunter colors. She reveled in that kind of action, but she didn’t do it often. She wasn’t a vigilante. But sometimes, she was just bored.

Out of the corner of her eye she took notice of a homeless man trying to ward off the cold with nothing more than a tattered jacket and a haphazard shelter made of tin. Her heart broke for the man but at the moment she couldn’t stop and buy him a warm drink like she wanted to. Instead she reached into her anorak pocket for her wallet. She didn’t dare carry a purse anymore because of the added weight and the fact that it was just one more thing someone could grab onto.

She handed the homeless man a one-hundred note and smiled at the man’s shock.

“I can’t accept this, ma’am.”

“Yes you can.” She said firmly. “I don’t care what you spend it on, but some of that has to go to keeping yourself warm. Rumor has it we’re in for a windstorm that will bring a record breaking chill down on Anacortes tonight.

She turned on her heel and rushed off quickly before the man could stutter out another word. She did hear him shout ‘thank you’ and she threw a wave over her shoulder. She hadn’t done enough good deeds lately. Maybe if she died today this would be enough to win her a bed in a better place.

She very seriously doubted that.

By the time she reached Café Wolf her suspicions were plunging steeply towards intense paranoia. Nothing had happened on her walk to the café. She had chosen this place because the people who wanted her dead weren’t stupid or desperate enough to attack at Café Wolf and of course the route to the café was heavily covered, which is why she didn’t even bother to drive. Gas was expensive just now for librarian Sarah Carson. And she couldn’t touch ‘Claire Dearing’s’ account unless she wanted trouble. And yet, she had just given some homeless man one-hundred dollars to do with as he pleased. She’d have to argue the rationality of that decision with herself later if she survived.

But still nothing made sense. They should have attacked by now. She wondered if maybe she should have considered that these people would be desperate enough to nab her in a crowded locale. Café Wolf was a mecca for breakfast lovers across the country. Even at 6:30 in the morning it would be packed. Now that she thought of it, she should have considered that scenario to be an absolute certainty.

With a sigh, Claire realized that she couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. She knew that the people who were after her were tied to InGen. Not Hammond’s InGen of course; but the InGen it had become after Hammond’s passing. Her paranoia wasn’t unfounded. She and Lowery had carried out extensive efforts in an attempt to break InGen’s back; especially in recent weeks.

The problem was that they had ignored one very important fact: InGen was notoriously hard to kill. Jurassic Park hadn’t done it, neither had the subsequent incidents with Site B. The events at Jurassic World hadn’t even come close to destroying InGen because the folks at InGen had masterfully positioned themselves in a way that, gave them power without being able to be blamed in anything that might happen with Jurassic World. Masrani Corp had taken the majority of the blame, as had her management of the situation; which was deserved, even she had to admit to that. If she had just listened in the first place, the loss of life wouldn’t have been nearly as bad.

But InGen still needed to pay for their crimes, even if the law had decided that they wouldn’t issue a price. But the law wasn’t the only entity at fault. The media, too, had failed. InGen had been hailed as heroes for their quick action in the wake of the ACU’s failure.

Raw, hot anger momentarily chased away the chill of fear. Claire stepped heavily into a puddle, sloshing up a tidal wave of water. Her pants were washed in it, but she felt none of the chill as she had gone with waterproof, utility pants for this venture. Claire stomped one more time, this time with more force. It was childish, but also so very cathartic.

Her mood lifted slightly but not by much. At least she was no longer afraid and the boiling anger only simmered. She was ready to deal with whatever monsters lay in wait for her. Actually, she realized that she welcomed such a confrontation. If she died today, she’d provide enough fodder for Lowery’s conspiracy nut friends to spread around. She’d read some of their work. They were good at making people see their side of things no matter how out there their theories were. Hell, they even had her believing in Big Foot for all of a second! Even if her death wasn’t the destructive force to InGen it would certainly be the catalyst that set it off.

She slowed her walk as she approached the large green hedges that bordered the outdoor seating area. Once again she reached inside her anorak and found certainty that her gun was still there. She took a deep slow breath. If she died, the movement would go forward. Everything would be fine, no matter what happened in that place. And there was still the slightest chance that Selina managed to find her and genuinely wanted to talk. It was feasible. But still, not very likely. With that in mind she stepped out from behind the hedges and onto the walkway that led up to the only public entrance.

Selina wasn’t waiting out front like she said she would be. And neither were InGen assassins. Instead, it was Owen that stood outside that door.  Shaken more deeply than she had been after the phone call, she froze mid stride and stared at Owen as he stared back at her.  

He stood, with arms crossed, in front of the door like a bouncer at an elite nightclub. The rain had gone from a gentle sprinkle to heavy handed dousing.  His hair was plastered to his forehead, but he was unbothered as he glared at her with a mixture of anger and very vivid hurt.

“You should put your hood up.” Claire said stupidly when the silence became unbearable, because she had no idea what else to say. What the hell was he doing here? How the hell had he found her? Those questions would have probably been the appropriate silence breaker, but she hadn’t thought of it then. Oh well, it was too late now.

Owen stood unmoved. If he thought anything of her bizarre comment he didn’t give any indication. Instead he expressed what was on his mind. “Where’s Lowery? I’m going to kill him.” He said morosely.

Claire winced at the malice in his voice. It bothered her that Lowery obviously had been blamed by everyone for Claire’s decision to abandon her loved ones. “It’s not his fault,” Claire whispered quietly wishing that she could put more force behind her words. But Owen’s hardened glare effectively hobbled her voice.

“It’s not his fault that he got you mixed up in this shit?” Owen asked with an air of irony. “He’s got you on InGen’s hitlist.”

Whether it was the absurdity of Owen’s claims or the fact that he’d never hurt her she wasn’t sure but, suddenly Claire found her voice again. His glare, though horrifying was nothing more than a bark. “I got myself on InGen’s hitlist!” Claire snapped, “Lowery isn’t Red Raptor. I am!”

Owen cracked a smirk and Claire immediately felt the burn in her cheeks. He hadn’t known about that, clearly. “Red Raptor?”

“R-3-d R-4-p-t-0-r. It’s the name I write under.” She didn’t dare say that the name had been Lowery’s suggestion. She didn’t want to solidify Owen’s belief that it was Lowery who had dragged her into this fight and not the other way around. Lowery had initially resisted, when Claire had gone to him for help. But eventually she had gotten him to see her side of things.

Recognition touched Owen’s features and he sneered. “Ah, right, the half-rate investigative blog against InGen.”

Owen was clearly angry and in some ways hurt. She tried not to take his words personally. Tried and failed. “Excuse me. Do you know how much work I put into that? How many hours of—”

“I’m not here to talk about your blog, Claire!” Owen roared. “That’s not why InGen has a bounty on your head. They don’t even take your blog seriously. You can’t hurt them with that.”

Hurt, Claire glared at him.  

Owen glared back for a moment before his eyes slowly began softening into reason. “You really don’t know, do you?”

Claire shook her head numbly. The rain was finally beginning to soak into her skin as her hood had slid off her head.

“Holy shit.” Owen mumbled under his breath though the notes of rage were still detectable. He leaned heavily against the stair railing and pressed the back of his fist to his mouth. Claire had a feeling any anger he had left was not at her; at least, for the moment. Her suspicions were confirmed when he looked at her again. This time she saw sympathy. “Look we’ll talk about your escapades and why InGen wants you dead, later. Right now your friend Selina is in there waiting.” He pointed over his shoulder at the oddly darkened café. “She’s about to drop you down a pretty deep rabbit hole.”

Owen pulled open the door and held it for her. 

“Wait. What?” Claire asked indignantly. “You just show up here and yell at me for God knows what reason and you just expect me to go in there with you like this didn’t just happen?”

Owen cracked a grin that actually chased the darkness, revealing, for just a moment, the most beautiful shade of green. “I can wait out here.” He assured her, and then suddenly his eyes darkened again as if he remembered that he was angry with her. He was sure angry at something. “But for your sake, I think it’s best that I go in there with you.”

Instinct once again told her that the anger wasn’t directed at her, yet. He really was trying to protect her and once again her paranoia began to push through. But if there was one person on this planet that she truly trusted, it was the man, who, for well over a year had lost sleep because she had been constantly waking up in terror. He’d always hold her close and hum softly in her ear or talk her ear off until she fell back asleep, even if it took hours. And then he’d still get up at the crack of dawn, go on his runs and have breakfast on the table by the time she willed herself to face the day (in the early days following Jurassic World he’d have to coax her out). She’d been a wreck and he had remained her safe harbor. Owen cared deeply about her, as she did him. She knew that nothing she did could change that.

“Fine.”

Owen held out a hand to stop her as Claire started through the door. She looked up at him sharply, wondering what it was that he wanted now.

A small smile played on his lips even though his green eyes remained hardened. “I’m going to need both of your guns and the knife you keep sheathed on your ankle.”

Claire opened her mouth to argue.

“Trust me.”

It wasn’t Owen’s words that compelled Claire to reach into her anorak for her guns. It was the subtle way his expression wavered when he told her to trust him. For a moment, just a moment he had been beseeching her. He had to know that her trust wasn’t an issue. Right? She trusted him with her life. He knew that. He should. But she remembered with a cold punch to the gut, that he had no reason to be sure of her trust anymore. She had left him without rhyme or reason. A move she had considered correct at the time. The best scenario for everyone.

            She handed her weapons to him one at a time. He stuffed them in a duffle bag that Claire had earlier failed to see at his feet. The bag was bulging, ready to explode.

            As she passed the knife to him, suddenly seized by a need to apologize for leaving and to explain why, she grabbed his wrist. Owen locked eyes with her at once and the words froze on her tongue. She couldn’t do it. Nothing she could say or do could atone for what she had done. She had after all left him on the night that he had proposed to her. She had told him that she needed time to think and he had been nice enough to believe that. Instead she had taken the time to run because she thought she had been protecting him.  

            Owen gently pulled his wrist from her grasp and dropped his gaze. “She’s waiting for you,” He informed her flatly.

Claire clenched her jaw and swallowed the bile that burned in her throat. This whole situation made her sick with hate for herself. At the moment she found a bullet to the head preferable to the mess of this confrontation.

Without another word she walked passed him into the labyrinth of the monster that awaited her.  

 


	2. Chapter Two: The Meeting

**A/N: Hi all! I know I said only once a week, but since Jurassic World premires in the US today I thought I'd post this one as a way to celebrate. Once again no spoilers since I can't see it until tomorrow afternoon (not that you'll have any reason to but I need to cover my bases). Enjoy!**

* * *

 

Café Wolf is _the_ breakfast standard of not just the city of Anacortes, but of Washington State; quite possibly the entire west coast. No one does breakfast the way that Erma and Clyde do it. Every bite is truly a supernatural experience! It's a promise proudly displayed on their sign; right beneath the stereotypical image of a wolf howling at the moon. It's a promise that has been kept for twenty-five years. So much so that this place, this small piece of heaven, that only serves breakfast from 5:00 am to 9 PM in the evening is always crowded. This place had the distinction of serving normal everyday people, celebrities, politicians and foreign tourists from around the globe. No one gets special treatment, but here everyone feels special.

Today however, the café stood deserted. As Claire stepped through the beloved café she could make out the familiar scents of hickory, maple and brown sugar; mouthwatering scents that permeated through the warm air, long after the cooking was done. She was sure that this smell would never fade even after years of desertion. But that was the only thing of any comfort. The only source of light came from the muted silvery glow of the stormy outside world through the large front windows. Chairs were pushed back in all directions, cameras, purses, wallets, cellphones and all sorts of other personal effects were abandoned on the tables along with half eaten meals, meals barely touched and drinks in equal condition. This place had been abandoned and fast.

Cold fear clawed against Claire's spine once more. She thought about running. But she remembered that Owen was here. He'd never do anything to harm her even under duress. But what if he really wasn't here? What if this was all the doings of an altered state? What if between her apartment and here she had been drugged somehow? Sometimes people could inject things without causing any pain. Depending on how fast the drugs worked or what the nature of the drug was she wouldn't even know what hit her. Even if she had in that moment, the memory could be easily erased.

Another chill. This time she couldn't fight the resultant shudder.

"Claire my darling, I don't ever recall you being so jumpy." A reedy voice said from the corner. She recognized it at once as Selina's, even though she didn't recall her voice having such a weak quality to it.

She turned slowly towards the far-right corner, where the voice had come from. Buried in the shadows she could just make out Selina's silhouette. Claire walked forward slowly, wishing very much that she hadn't given up her guns and her knife. But she still had one surprise up her sleeve, should she need it. Owen had misjudged her.

"Good morning, Selina." Claire greeted as evenly as she could. God forbid she should show her fear now even though it was flooding her periphery nervous system in droves. Muscles were tense with preparation of either fight or flight and her mind was already working on the escape plan. But she'd be damned if she let on, even though it was clear that Selina already knew.

Selina chuckled softly, the action was clearly meant to be warm, but it only served to unsettle Claire further. "Morning, child," she greeted. Claire noted the forced warmth in her voice which was so unusual for the sweet hearted Selina.

"Why are you hiding in the shadows?" Claire retorted at once, in a sudden decision to do away with the pleasantries. They were a waste of time, when in fact, the plan could be to kill her or worse.

Owen snorted and not so subtly buried it underneath a fake cough. Claire didn't look behind her but kept careful tabs of where his position was. If in fact this was Owen, and she was sure that it was, she was safe. But if it wasn't she was in deep shit and her escape wasn't guaranteed. She hoped that Lowery was watching.

Selina shifted in her chair as she leaned forward. She produced a box of matches. "Sorry." She said as she wiggled a match from the box and proceeded to strike it against the strip. She lit a small wrought iron lantern that adorned the center of the table. "We're trying to be as discreet as possible here. We have no idea who is in town right now."

Claire started to open her mouth but quickly shut it and gave a silent nod as acknowledgement.

"Should I call you Claire or Sarah?"

Jokes. The woman was on the verge of giving her a heart attack and it was jokes that she decided to come at her with. "You can call me whatever the hell you want as long as it means we can get on with why you guys are here."

Selina smiled lightly, in the warm glow of the firelight, her eyes had nothing soft about them. In fact, they were startlingly predatory. Claire knew that she wasn't imagining this. This was not the Selina MacLean that she had known. This couldn't possibly be the same Selina that had worked so hard at school while working full time as a nanny. This wasn't the Selina that had been top of her class at Harvard Law only to go on to be known as one of the most compassionate lawyers. She had helped thousands of people in her tenure. She was about to retire and go on to volunteer with humanitarian causes abroad.

"Touchy." Selina replied, the predatory gleam seemed to deepen as her smile broadened. No. This wasn't her Selina.

"Who are you?" Claire demanded slamming her fist hard against the round, redwood table. One of 25 custom made with carvings of wolves and woodland scenes.

Selina or the woman claiming to be Selina was unmoved by the threat in Claire's voice. "Selina Maclean." She said briskly, before she looked Claire over, predatory gaze unwavering, but this time there was an indignant air added into the mix. "What? Just because I'm not kissing your feet, suddenly I'm not Selina, your humble servant."

The words cut deeper than she was sure Selina had meant them to.

"Watch it, Selina." Owen hissed from behind them. "You're skating on thin ice as it is."

"Asshole." Claire distinctly heard Selina mutter underneath her breath.

Evidently Owen had heard it too because he stepped out from behind Claire and bent down slightly so his face was in hers, he kept his hand tightly on the back of her chair as if he were about to rip it out from underneath her. Earlier Claire had thought that the look Selina was giving her had been predatory, dangerous; but, no. The look that Owen was giving Selina now was far worse. It was clear that while Selina had the answers, Owen was the one in control of the situation and Selina sure as hell feared him.

Owen said something to Selina in hushed tones. Claire couldn't make it out, but she watched as Selina grew ever paler in the firelight. Her eyes no longer held the look of a cat playing with a mouse. She was the mouse now or more like the canary trapped in her cage. She looked exactly how Claire imagined when they had been on the phone. It dawned on her that maybe Owen had been the one holding the gun to her head. But why?

"Okay." Selina said firmly. Owen walked away to stand behind Claire again or, so she thought. Instead he pulled up a chair from a neighboring table and took a seat beside her. He was so close that had she not kept her arms firmly at her sides, their arms would have brushed. She missed the feeling of the warmth of his body against hers. She'd give anything to have that back. But she had given that up to chase a fight that she wasn't even sure she could win.

But he seemed to be protecting her from something now. She took relief in the fact that he still cared enough to do just that.

"Whenever you're ready, Selina." Owen said in a tone that suggested that what he really meant was that she'd better get talking. She caught him checking his watch. She wondered for a moment if he had to be somewhere or if he was expecting someone. She decided it didn't matter. The way he was looking at Selina right now told Claire that whatever was coming out of her mouth was far worse than anything that was going to come through the door.

Selina gave a long-suffering sigh. "Navy men…everything has to be on their time."

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. She got the feeling that he didn't find Selina's words the least bit humorous. "Selina." She said forcefully.

"Alright." Selina chewed on her lower lip. A nervous habit that she'd always had. "Look, here it is plain and simple. The twins weren't stillborn."

"Bitch!" Owen hissed angrily after shocked silence gave way to realization.

The words sank in slowly, but they sank in and suddenly Claire found herself in the worst kind of shellshock. She just stared and watched as the annoyance on Selina's face became a gratified sneer. One that Claire would love to wipe off her face and quickly. But she still didn't quite understand. The words had sunk in, but they didn't add up to anything meaningful. Well, nothing she wanted to believe anyway.

"What the hell are you talking about, Selina?" Claire started to get to her feet. Owen's hand shot to her arm and before she could think she was planted right back into her chair. She didn't look at Owen but felt his eyes burning into her.

Selina chuckled. "We planned out how I was going to tell you. There was even a script that I had to memorize. But why am I going to sugar coat it? Meredith Cordelia and Milo Christopher weren't dead when they came out of you. Under your mother's orders I took them, and then she lied about them being stillborn. She had to bribe a few doctors of course; buy a new wing. I mean keeping those little bastards would have been far cheaper than all the money she had to throw away to keep those babies from ruining your future."

Eyes firmly to her hands Claire fought growing panic as she tried desperately to understand. The words entered her ears, but again her brain refused to process them. The twins had died. Her twins were stillborn. It had been almost certain that they would have been as the ultrasound had shown abnormalities in heart and brain. She had never heard them cry. But she had never seen the bodies either. She had wanted to but Selina who had arrived at the hospital six hours later had talked her out of it. The light pressure of Owen's hand on her arm suddenly fell away.

Red clouded her vision and her muscles tightened before she sprung out of her chair and over the table right towards the lying bitch. No obstacle would stop her, she flung the lantern to the floor the glass shattered on impact and she briefly heard Owen curse as he rushed to put out the fire.

She lost track of the small blaze that had caught on the napkins that had fallen to the floor. Instead she focused on the monster before her. Her hands closed around the woman's scrawny neck. She could feel the ridges of the woman's trachea. The plastic like wall, beginning to bend beneath the pressure of her grip.

Selina's eyes bulged out of her sockets, the blood vessels came to the surface of her sclera under the guidance of the force of Claire's hands. She realized that she was killing Selina and part of her did feel some shock at the suddenness by which she had acted, but largely, she didn't care. Not in the slightest.

A bit over eleven years ago she had thought she had made the mistake of a lifetime. In a night of pure recklessness born of her fiancé's treachery, she had, had a one-night stand. That one-night stand had resulted in twins. She had been upset at first. She had actually considered an abortion but in the end, she had decided against it. She knew that she could still be successful and raise a family on her own. In fact, by all accounts she already was. She had been about to graduate top of her class at Cambridge with her MBA in International Business. The babies wouldn't change that course in her life, having them would only be another obstacle that she would have effortlessly navigated. Her future took a somewhat darker outlook in the second trimester when the girl was diagnosed with hydrocephalus and the boy a heart defect. The doctor had insisted that their odds weren't good. But that they did have a chance. That chance was Claire's cause for hope. She had believed so fervently that her babies would survive that it had absolutely destroyed her when she had learned that they had died.

"You lied to me! You fucking lied to me!" Claire roared in the bitch's face as tears fell from her cheeks onto the treacherous woman's bluing skin. She slammed Selina's head hard against the cherrywood planked floor. If she had drawn blood it wasn't yet apparent. She did it again.

Firm hands gripped Claire's shoulders. Owen tried to pull her back. Claire rolled, letting go of Selina to take a swing at Owen. She connected with something, but in her blind fury she wasn't sure if she had hit face, abdomen or crotch.

Owen backed off just for a moment. His laughter was loud over the beating of her heart as he wrapped his arms around her and dragged her off the floor. "Stop, Claire. We need her alive." He said firmly after his laughter died away with her continued struggle.

"No!" She spat as she lunged against his arms. She barely threw him off balance and he slung her over his shoulder and carried her off to the other side of the restaurant. Resenting this she pounded hard against Owen's back. "Let me go, Owen!"

"Not a chance, red raptor."

He dumped her onto a couch and held her thrashing body securely.

"Owen!"

"Nope."

Claire announced her frustration with a guttural scream and she once again put all her force into throwing off Owen's arms. But he had her pinned belly down. There wasn't any way that she would escape this. She screamed again, fury burning white hot through every vein, artery and capillary. She beat the couch with tightly closed fists and kept screaming until her oxygen was spent, and she could taste her tears running into her mouth. That monster, that fucking bitch had ruined three lives irreparably and she was going to get away with only a minor beating. A slap on the wrist really. Selina Maclean deserved so much worse. Claire's mother too deserved all the hell that could be unleashed. She'd make sure of it.

The toll of stress and anger on her body must have plunged her into unconsciousness because when she opened her eyes she was on her back staring at the exposed beams of the café's ceiling. Her head felt hazy, and there was a general heaviness throughout her body. For a moment she didn't remember, but only a moment, and then she was quickly on her feet. The sudden movement caused her head to spin and she was forced back onto the couch in sitting position. She buried her face in her hands and her body heaved in a great, involuntary sigh.

She could hear whispers somewhere in front of her, but she didn't dare look up lest she vomit what little was in her stomach. She could already feel the sting of bile rising in her throat. This felt far too much like a sedative hangover. She wondered if Owen had somehow drugged her.

She tried to focus on the whispers. It wasn't Selina and Owen. It was Owen and an unknown girl. She sounded strained and maybe just a little angry. She was struggling to keep up her hushed whisper. She couldn't quite hear what Owen was saying either. But sometimes his whispers were sharp, authoritative and sometimes the sharp words gave way to soft, consoling notes.

Suddenly the whispers stopped. She felt their eyes on her, but she couldn't lift her head.

"Good." Owen said, his voice wavered silently with a mixture of concern and something else that she couldn't quite place.

Owen's approaching footsteps sounded too loud in her ears. "Did you drug me?" She didn't look up. Her pounding head wouldn't allow it.

There was a slight creaking on the wood floor and suddenly Owen's voice was in her ear. "No." He whispered. She knew he wasn't lying. "Your body just couldn't handle the stress. I told her not to do that to you. I told her to go easy." He backed away slightly clearly trying to spare her from a worse headache as his voice grew louder with irritation.

Suddenly, something clicked. Claire raised her head slowly and found Owen's concerned face. She narrowed his eyes and suddenly it dawned on him too because he looked guilty as hell. "How long have you known, Owen?"

"Not long." Owen took a breath and looked guiltily away from her. "Three months."

Claire started to rise to her feet. Owen's hands came down firmly on her lap. Claire's own hands fisted immediately as she decided whether or not it was worth the energy. "Three months, Owen?! And you couldn't have told me?"

After a beat, Owen leveled a hard look at her. The look stabbed right through her heart. She regretted the question at once. "And how exactly was I supposed to do that, Claire? You didn't exactly leave me a phone number."

Her hands fell limply at her sides. The rightful accusation drained the fight right out of her and replaced it with stinging anguish. She looked past Owen to where she had left Selina sprawled out on the floor. She wasn't there. The only other person in this place was a girl cleaning up the mess that Claire's assault had caused.

She studied the girl curiously. She was small, maybe a bit under five feet, and willowy. To the unpracticed eye she could easily be mistaken as frail. But as the girl cast her eyes on her, she could see that the girl was strong. Her whole demeanor spoke to that. Claire narrowed her eyes and examined her more thoroughly. She had jet black hair, cut into a messy pixie. She was pale, and her cheeks were dusted in freckles. Her eyes though…

Claire stood slowly. This time Owen's hands fell away. She heard him slowly rise to his feet behind her. As she stepped slowly toward the girl, Owen remained close at her heels. When she was less than two feet away she reached out and cupped the face in both of her hands. The girl held Claire's gaze. Her mouth formed a tight line, and she could feel her jaw muscles working beneath her cheeks. She knew those eyes all too well because they were hers; as were the lips and that nose.

_No. This can't be…_

But even as she thought it the words began to form. "A-are you Meredith?"

Tears shone in the girl's eyes and her lower lip quivered just a bit. "Hi, Mom."

Shock drew a sharp gasp from deep within Claire. She dropped her hands to Meredith's arms and pulled her into a tight hug. "Oh my God." She whispered into Meredith's black hair. "Oh my God." Claire could feel tears falling from her eyes into Meredith's hair. A warm spot was starting to soak through Claire's shirt from Meredith's own tears.

"I finally made it to you, Momma. Finally." Meredith mumbled shakily into Claire's chest.

Claire sobbed and sank to her knees dragging Meredith with her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Against her mother, Meredith shook her head. "I know, Mom. I know what they did to you…to us. I know that it isn't your fault. You're a victim of greedy people, same as me."

Claire ran her hand through Meredith's short hair. She at once found a bump the size of a robin's egg. At once she held the little girl, just barely turned eleven, at arm's length. "Did someone hurt you?"

Meredith laughed hoarsely and shook her head. "No. I'm just part machine that's all." When Claire stared on in confusion, Meredith laughed again. "That's my shunt valve. It's right under my skin, it connects to the catheter in my brain and the one that drains the fluid into my abdomen."

Claire clenched her jaw. Before she'd given birth, she had been thoroughly educated on the twins' conditions. Meredith's shunt would drain the fluid from which ever brain ventricle or ventricles was afflicted and either drain into her liver, heart or abdomen. "Does it bother you at all?" Was all she could think to ask, and she felt stupid for doing so. Her biggest fear was that for Meredith her hydrocephalus would be a huge burden. She found the catheter just under the skin of her neck and traced it lightly.

Meredith didn't seem too bothered by the question. In fact, she pulled away and grinned. "It's kind of cool actually. I feel like a Bionicle."

Claire laughed and cupped Meredith's face again. She'd only known this sweet, strong angel for a few minutes but already she could see how her spirit shone brightly. Her heart sank as she realized something incredibly important. "Where is your brother?"

Meredith's grin disappeared. She shook her head and pressed a kiss to her mother's forehead before she began to stand. "Milo died last year…." She hesitated for a moment as if struggling with what to say next and for good reason. The next words out of Meredith's mouth rocked Claire so badly that she nearly lost consciousness again. "He died on the day of the Jurassic World incident…heart attack."

Claire wavered as she struggled to win the battle between sobs, screams and the rapidly tunneling vision. Her body heaved, and she spit up green tinged mucosa. Her mouth burned so badly she might have screamed if Meredith's little frame hadn't suddenly slammed against her.

"I'm so sorry." Claire croaked, her mouth still burning viciously from the bile. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Mom."

If she only knew. "Yes, it was."

"Mom, really. I have proof. It wasn't your fault. Jurassic World was a set up. I have proof." Meredith said more forcefully. She pulled away and lifted her mother's face so that they were eye to eye.

"What are you talking about?" Claire said through panicked gasps. No proof in the world could deny that she was guilty. She had sealed the fates of all those people, and animals. All those souls, lives cut short by a poorly managed crisis were on her. Now she had to add Milo's death to the list. Sure, he'd already been on it, but he had been a nameless number in a sea of unidentifiable bodies. He was likely one of the many denied a proper burial.

"We need to get back to your apartment and I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?" Claire asked dumbly. Her whole body felt heavy and her vision still tunneled on the verge of a blackout.

"Owen, get Mom some water quick!" Meredith shouted, clearly having caught sight of Claire's condition.

The sound of Owen's stomping boots as he ran for the kitchen did little to help her headache.

"Everything." Meredith whispered as she touched Claire's cheek. "From the moment Owen rescued me from Belize to my arrival to the diner and finding you on the couch. By the way I paid a taxi to get Selina out of town. A friend of mine will put her somewhere safe…if you care at all."

Claire only stared at Meredith in response. Her body began to shiver relentlessly against a deep seated cold. This wasn't real. How could this be real? Her vision was starting to swim as she fought to make sense of this all. Belize? What the hell was she doing in Belize?

"Owen, where's that water!" Meredith screamed.

Owen's response sounded as muddled as if he were underwater. Meredith's wasn't any better and she was standing right next to her.

Claire heard Owen's approach, but it all came too late as the darkness quickly closed in on her.


End file.
